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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22478638">Recherché</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/somedaysomewhere/pseuds/somedaysomewhere'>somedaysomewhere</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>X1 (Korea Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bartender Seungyoun, Honestly just word vomit, I don’t know how to tag this lol, M/M, Office Worker Seungwoo, Strangers to Friends to Lovers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 12:08:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,617</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22478638</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/somedaysomewhere/pseuds/somedaysomewhere</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Seungyoun’s heart never required much. It had always been easy to sway with companionship and intimate conversations.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cho Seungyeon | Seungyoun/Han Seungwoo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>138</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Recherché</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Seungyoun inspects the beer glass meticulously, checking for any leftover soap or grease. He wipes its mouth, turns it upside down and polishes the inside until it’s sparkling clean. The clock indicates it’s 7:58 PM. Two minutes. He continues to shine the remaining glasses while waiting.</p><p>At exactly eight in the evening, the bell affixed to the bar’s entry door rings. He puts down the washcloth and smooths the tops of his brown trousers. He moves to the front of the counter to greet the customer who just arrived.</p><p>“Hi, hyung,” he starts, hoping his voice is steady enough to conceal his eagerness. His heart beats erratically and it reminds him of the silly crushes he had when he was a student.</p><p>In front of him is Seungwoo, clad in a black suit that is probably a day’s worth of his salary. His suit jacket is fit enough to hint his broad shoulders and well-built chest. He loosens his tie, the movement showing off his long, slender fingers. There is something attractive about people who know how to carry themselves.</p><p>“Seungyounie,” Seungwoo greets. “Have you had dinner yet?” Whenever he speaks, his honeyed voice smothers his sentences. It makes Seungyoun feel like he’s fifteen again, diligently working in exchange for something sweet.</p><p>“I haven’t yet,” he admits while shaking his head.</p><p>Seungwoo’s bottom lip juts out. It’s close to a pout, only more devastating. “Hm. But it’s already eight? I’m fine with waiting. You can eat.”</p><p>“Hey. Are you the boss?,” he grins. “Don’t worry about it. I can do breaks whenever I want to. I’m just not hungry.” He picks up a glass from the ones he polished earlier, brings it to the beer tap, and fills it with stout.</p><p>“If you’re sure.” Seungwoo takes the beer and starts drinking. Seungyoun observes the graceful line of his neck, his adam’s apple bobbing with every gulp—</p><p>He looks away. He busies himself with the bar’s ledger, calculating the profit they made today. After a few, he hears the clink of Seungwoo’s glass against the marble. He then closes the book and stands to give him a refill. </p><p>A simple moment can be revolutionary. For Seungyoun, it happens at 8:27 PM as he hands Seungwoo his second drink. The bar is quiet and unassuming, and with Maurice Williams playing on the radio, he realizes that he is in love with him.</p><p>(Won't you place your sweet lips to mine?</p><p>Won't you say you love me all of the time?)</p><p><br/>
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</p><p>Seungwoo is their regular. He’s been coming to the bar for three months now, four times a week except on Mondays and weekends. He often goes for beer, no food or anything else. On rare days when his mind is more occupied than usual, he opts for a classic old-fashioned.</p><p>At first, Seungyoun was curious about what he did for a living to be able to drink even during work days. Seungwoo seemed like an office worker from the way he dressed (always in suits or long-sleeved polos). If so, how could he stay up late and still be on time for his job?</p><p>Fortunately, Seungwoo volunteered the information himself. “I’m a country manager for XX company. The position allows me to manage my time flexibly.” It was the first of many things he would share about himself. Little by little, Seungyoun had enough pieces to complete the puzzle of who Seungwoo was. </p><p>(Twenty-nine, single, with superstar looks that he doesn’t acknowledge. Spends his time in silence until Seungyoun inquires about his day.)</p><p>His heart never required much. It had always been easy to sway with companionship and intimate conversations.</p><p><br/>
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</p><p>On a slow Thursday evening, Seungwoo arrives with a boy who has pretty doe eyes. It’s the kind of eyes people drown in and write songs about, and it makes Seungyoun a bit insecure.</p><p>He can’t pinpoint the reason for his diffidence. The boy is polite, readily offering his hand for a handshake, his grin bright and interested and genuine. There is nothing wrong at all, except for what’s going on inside his head.</p><p>“He’s Wooseok,” introduces Seungwoo. “A close friend of mine. I brought him here to share my special space.” The soft smile he gives him makes Seungyoun feel like he’s twenty-three again, witnessing the love of his life fall for somebody else.</p><p>Still, he welcomes Wooseok like how he welcomes Seungwoo: warmly and pleasantly. He receives their orders of two martinis and a plate of cheddar olives. Seungwoo has never asked for any of these before. He knows because he only misses shifts on Mondays and weekends.</p><p>In a mixing glass filled with ice cubes, he combines gin, vermouth and Angostura bitters. He stirs the mixture for thirty seconds and strains it into two chilled cocktail glasses, topping each drink with a lemon twist. As he places both martinis on the counter, Seungwoo whispers a brief <em> thank you. </em> He immediately returns to his conversation with Wooseok, not sparing him any of the attention he gave when it was only the two of them together.</p><p>Seungyoun endorses them to another bartender named Hangyul, spouting a shit excuse of having to tackle liquor deliveries. He bows and pivots around before hearing their reply, the kitchen suddenly appealing to his eyes.</p><p>He ends up inside the stockroom. His heart is heavy and his chest is burdened with an overwhelming urge to cry. On the television is a documentary about volcanoes. A specialist explains: <em>eruptions are due to pressure and concealed things rising to the surface.</em></p><p><br/>
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</p><p>Seungyoun doesn’t leave the bar until 3 AM.</p><p>He pretends to be indifferent to the figure leaning against a post. He hates how he instantly recognizes the angles of his body, down to his tendency to slouch to his left. He’s biting his nails again, a habit he does when he thinks no one is looking.</p><p>Seungwoo straightens upon seeing him. “Hi. You never came out again. We didn’t get to bid goodbye.” </p><p>“It’s okay. I had more work to do than I thought.” He tries to smile, hoping it’s convincing enough for Seungwoo to leave him alone.</p><p>“Hm. Am I going to see you later?”</p><p>“Yeah, of course. I have to go. I’m really sleepy.” He walks fast, trying to evade further discussion. He doesn’t want to talk, not now when he is fragile and at the verge of spilling things that are better hidden.</p><p>However, Seungwoo has other plans. “Hangyul identified you as the bar owner.”</p><p>He stops in his tracks. He stares at Seungwoo, not missing the determination in his gaze.</p><p>“He also said that it wasn’t part of your job to check inventories. Nor to go to work four days a week. In fact, you used to only visit during weekends and that changed around three months ago.” Seungwoo steps closer as he speaks.</p><p><em> Ah, fuck. </em> Seungyoun curses Hangyul silently. “You and Hangyul talked a lot.”</p><p>“Yes. He was willing to share things you weren’t. But I had a question he couldn’t answer. Why did you hide the whole night?”</p><p>“I wasn’t. As I explained earlier, I had things to finish.”</p><p>“Seungyoun, I can see through your bullshit.”</p><p>For some reason, the statement rubs him the wrong way. “What do you want me to say? That I was jealous? That I wanted you to look at me the way you looked at Wooseok? That I waited for you on days when I knew you'd come? That it hurt because I waited and you didn’t even spare me a glance?”</p><p>“Seung—”</p><p>“I’m so confused. I like you, Seungwoo. I like you so much that I hear a constant whirring in my brain when you’re not around and it’s difficult to focus on anything else.” To his horror, tears well up in his eyes. This wasn’t how he imagined his confession to be.</p><p>Seungwoo is taken aback. “Seungyounie. Hey. Stop crying.”</p><p>He tries to contain himself. But his emotions have already scattered, and what has exploded cannot be put together again.</p><p>“Wooseok is home after two years of graduate studies in Germany. We hadn’t seen each other since and I think that’s why we were misinterpreted,” Seungwoo explains as he traps him into a hug.</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>Seungwoo only tightens his arms around him, placing his chin on top of Seungyoun’s head. “No. You don’t have to be. It was also my fault for not clearing things earlier. Do you know? My office and my home are actually only two blocks away from each other. To go here, I take a bus and travel for five kilometers. To return home, I do the same.”</p><p>Seungyoun remains silent, processing the words he was told. His chin is lifted and a gentle hand erases the tear tracks off his face.</p><p>“There are many other bars around my area. I can hang out in them but I don’t. Because none of them has the boy who has me safe and on edge at the same time.”</p><p>And then he is kissed. It makes Seungyoun feel like he’s twenty-seven, finally at his real age, where love is no longer a storm but a calm that settles deep in his bones. He adores him unrelentingly, with the ferocity of a thousand sunshines.</p><p><br/>
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</p><p>Saturday morning finds them tangled together in a bed Seungyoun isn’t familiar with.</p><p>Seungwoo is still asleep, bathed in light that makes him more heavenly. Seungyoun studies his facial features and the most comfortable parts of his body. He runs his fingers through his hair, blue-black, reminiscent of the bottom of the sea.</p><p>There is a lot left to discover. For Seungyoun, it’s a luxury to find a person to lose himself in.</p><p><br/>
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